Dressing Up
by danderson
Summary: We all do it at some point, for whatever reason, in whatever form... A series of oneshots, multiple POVs
1. Chapter 1

Prince Fiyero Tiggular was bored, and the girl was distracting. That was his excuse for staring at her, the stranger who had caught his attention while he waited for his girlfriend to arrive. Whoever she was, she was stunning. She had long, flowing dark hair, pale, flawless skin, and dark, dancing eyes. The dress she wore was form-fitting, but not tight or revealing, and she was tall and slender. There was something about her he recognized, but he couldn't place her.

Fiyero wondered why he'd never noticed her before.

His girlfriend, Galinda Upland, bounced up to him dressed like a nurse, or, well... sort of. Fiyero reckoned that if nurses' uniforms had been so low-cut, tight-fitting and short-skirted, he'd have found ways to get sick many times throughout his life. "Like my costume, Fiyero?"

"Do I ever," he exclaimed, kissing her excitedly. "I still can't believe this holiday of yours."

"_I_ can't believe you don't have anything like this in the Vinkus! When do you get to dress up and make believe?"

"When we're children."

Galinda pouted. "That's no fun at all. You do look great, though," she commented, taking in the costume she'd picked for him and looking rather pleased with herself.

Fiyero tugged at his costume - he was a pirate. He wasn't sure why. But he got to have a sword; his only requirement had been that he have a weapon of some kind. He'd been a little embarrassed, until he'd seen that everyone around Shiz had gotten into the spirit. There were all sorts of people in costume - most of the girls had gone a similar route to Galinda, in seductive versions of nurse, maid and detective uniforms. Lots of them seemed to be wearing button-up shirts, ties, and short, plaid skirts, which confused him. But he wasn't complaining.

"Ooh, there's Miss Milla!" Glinda waved at her friend (who'd gone the route of a princess, though not a very proper one) and hopped off the chat with her.

Fiyero sighed, and scanned the crowd for the Mystery Girl again. Galinda was always dragging him to things like this, then hopping off to gossip with her girlfriends, then hopping back to parade him around, then hopping off again... He wondered if she'd be offended if, next time, he paid for an escort to accompany her.

Galinda returned soon enough. "The dance is going to start soon," she said, linking her arms with his. "We should head in."

"Hey, is Elphaba coming?"

Galinda giggled. "Not to the dance!! I thought she was here, though," she said, hopping up onto her toes and looking around. "I could have sworn I saw her earlier..."

"Well, what's she dressed like?" _As if the most distinct thing about Elphaba Thropp would be her costume_, Fiyero thought to himself. _She certainly... stands out in a crowd._

Galinda got an excited look on her face. "She's dressed as a girl."

"Um, Lin, I think Elphaba _is_ a girl," Fiyero said, wondering if she was feeling alright.

"No, Fiyero, like..." Galinda didn't know the nicest way to phrase it. "A _regular girl_. I put makeup on her face and hands and she's not _green_ anymore."

"Ohhh," he realized, feeling a tightness in his chest.

"Oh, there's Miss Shenshen!"

Fiyero grunted as Galinda disappeared again, and that's when he saw her. The Mystery Girl, the beautiful one, disappearing into a dorm building. His breath caught in his throat, and berated himself for not seeing it sooner, and for not recognizing her beauty until she was more 'normal-fied'. "Oh, Elphaba," he sighed, staring at the door that had closed behind her. How could he have known her this long without comprehending this feeling, the flurry of joy and nerves and attraction. He thought stupidly of the fact that he was dating her room mate, her best friend, and felt crushed. He looked up toward the window of her dorm. "You're going to destroy me."

He stayed where he was, resisting the urge to follow her, wipe off her makeup, and tell her she was beautiful just the way she was.


	2. Chapter 2

Fiyero winced as he adjusted his collar. He'd always hated formal wear - it felt like he was being strangled by a series of rather weak little people; at his waist, around his neck, restricting arm and leg movement... Formal wear was less-than-desirable. But tonight was yet another one of Glinda's soirées, and so Fiyero was dressing up.

He looked at himself in the mirror and saw all the things he always tried not to see. He saw that his eyes didn't sparkle like they used to. He saw that his shoulders were broader than they'd been when he'd started at Shiz; yet another reminder of the ways in which he was aging. Fiyero saw that his constant smile was exhausting his face, for when he wasn't parading in front of the crowds, his visage was blank.

Where had the fire gone? He'd been brainlessly dancing through life when he was at Shiz, but at least he'd had zest while doing it.

Shiz had been surreal. Even now, he mostly didn't believe most of the things that had gone on. He'd stuck it out, for one thing. He'd met Glinda, and was still in a relationship with her, four years later. And there'd been Elphaba.

Elphaba.

His face creased into a half smile, one bittersweet in form and restraint. He wished she was here now, to see him as a man, broad shoulders and all. Brain and all. He wished she was here to make his eyes sparkle, as he knew the mere thought of her could. He wished she was here to make him smile a real smile.

He wished she was here at all.

But wishing, he'd found, was useless, and knew that, in the end, wishing only wounded the heart. He reminded himself not to dream too far, that Elphaba, and the leaping she inspired in his chest, was a thing of yesteryear.

It unsettled him, really, the idea that he'd wish things about her at all. He hadn't spent much time with her at Shiz - not alone, anyway. The first time he'd met her, and she'd yelled at him, he knew now that the electricity he'd felt had been... It wasn't a fluke. It was attraction, intrigue. And then, at the Ozdust Ballroom, when Glinda (she'd been Galinda then) had said not to stare at Elphaba, he'd murmured, "How can you help it?" Not because she was green, no. Because he couldn't begin to comprehend ever being able to tear his eyes away from her.

And still he'd fought it, even as she occupied more and more of his thoughts. Then there was the Lion cub incident, at which time the only logical idea had seemed to be to run with her. It hadn't just been because he was the only one not under whatever strange spell it was she'd cast over everyone else. He could have simply run off in the opposite direction. It was because... Well he hadn't known at the time.

Now, he was certain, it was because where Elphaba went, so went his nation.

How stupid he'd been that day. Young and free, really, in age, responsibility and attire, to reach for her hand after she'd pulled away. Linger within her gaze as her hand neared his cheek. All those things seemed so obvious now - in hindsight, he couldn't see how he'd let those moments with her go by as anything but an unending stream of clock ticks in which to hold her, explore kissing her, and see if, maybe, they were meant to be together.

He now suspected that they were soul mates, and, despite relentless pursuit of her, he'd blown his only chance to be with her.

"Sir," he was interrupted by a manservant at the door. "Are you ready to join the festivities?"

Fiyero would never be _ready_. "Yes, Graic, thank you," he nodded. The older man bowed formally and departed, leaving Fiyero alone with the mirror once more. "Elphaba?" He didn't know why he said it. The name often escaped his lips at times like these, when he would give anything to have her near. He secretly hoped that, one day, he would murmur, "Elphaba?" and she would appear before him, all stunning and so completely what he needed to continue breathing.

"Yes?" She'd sound casual, patient, but pressed for time, as she always had been.

He didn't know what he would say in response. Nothing, probably. He'd probably just take her hand and attempt to lead her somewhere, or pull her to him and just hold her. Or kiss her. Or cry, which would humiliate him, but even humiliation would be worth it just to be near her again. "Oh, Elphaba," he sighed. "You're going to destroy me."


	3. Chapter 3

"This tiara gets pretty heavy after awhile," Glinda sighed, pulling it off her head and wincing as her hair, wrapped around the base, was pulled.

"Here," Fiyero offered, picking gently until her hair wasn't bound to the sparkling accessory any longer.

"Thank you," she smiled, looking tired. "Are you staying here, tonight?"

"I'll be snoring in your ear before you can even blink," he warned.

"That's all right," she shrugged. "It's nice just to have you here."

Fiyero nodded, and pressed his lips to her forehead. "I'll just get changed," he said, stepping back and then slipping into the bathroom just off Glinda's suite.

Why he bothered to close the door, it couldn't be said. His robe was on the back of the door, so that was his reason for going into the bathroom. But why close the door? It wasn't as if Glinda would be surprised at his nudity. Neither of them discussed it, though, and it happened often.

Fiyero had a sneaking suspicion that he enjoyed his privacy, even in brief moments such as this.

He returned to her bedroom to find her in a state of undress, and couldn't deny that she was unbelievably beautiful. He climbed into bed and waited for her to return from washing her face, though he expected to drift off before then. She returned rather quickly, and climbed into bed.

Most nights, she snuggled into him, and he absently played with her hair (those curls were irresistible) or traced shapes on her back. But tonight, she simply lay on her back, the same as him, staring at the ceiling. "I was bored senseless tonight," she murmured. "It was exhausting."

Fiyero nodded. "I wasn't having much fun, either."

"You never do, when you're forced to dress up," she smiled. "What was the event even for?"

"Some Ozficial," Fiyero sighed, rolling his eyes. "Your parties are always much more fun, Lin," he promised, turning his face to smile at her.

She caught his eyes in the faint green glow and smiled in return. "Thank you, Fiyero." She leaned to him and kissed him. "Goodnight, dearest."

"Goodnight," he replied. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come, but, tonight, it did not. Glinda's even breathing next to him let him know that she'd really been bored to sleep by that party, which was no small feat when it came to Glinda and formal events.

Restless, suddenly, he got up again and, pulling his robe tightly around him, slipped out of her bedroom to pad down the thick emerald carpeting towards the Record, which was like a library, only it was all nonfiction. No stories of love, heroism, or sword fights, just facts, and barely. There was nothing of Animals, or the true nature of the Wizard's reign. The books, though their style were more suited to her, would have infuriated Elphaba for their content.

He nestled into the chair in the corner, the one he'd found a few months ago, behind all the stacks, and breathed in the smell of old books. It was an Elphaba smell, and usually soothed him, though his addiction to it was getting dangerous. Not only was Glinda hurt to wake up alone, it was awful when he woke up after sitting awkwardly in a chair all night, only to have to explain to Glinda why he hadn't remained next to her in his sleep.

Which was why he usually only stayed over when he was extremely exhausted or extremely lonely, and, therefore, weak enough to give in to the look of want and pleading that Glinda so often wore on her face.

He hated that he made love to Glinda. Hated himself for it, wished he could just tell her the truth. He didn't feel like much of a man, staying with Glinda to make her happy because the woman he loved didn't "want to be found"... He hated himself every time he held Glinda in his arms and pretended she was someone else, pretended she was strong and green and fiery.

"Oh, Elphaba," he sighed. "You're going to destroy me."


	4. Chapter 4

Fiyero couldn't believe his eyes. Months of searching, and here she was?

"Elphaba..."

"Don't come any closer," she spat, her broom raised at him like a weapon.

"Fae, it's me," he said, reaching toward her, taking one ginger step, and praying she wouldn't flee. "t's Fiyero."

She narrowed her eyes at him, though she didn't need to try any harder to see his intention; he wore his heart on his sleeve. After a beat, she raised her broom a notch higher, breaking his heart. "You should get out of here," she ordered. "I'll kill you before I let you turn me in."

"Elphaba," he cried, exasperated. "Why in Oz would I turn you in? Do you know how long I've waited...?" He took a deep breath. "This isn't you," he said, shaking his head. "Why don't you put down the broom, all right?"

She snorted with contempt. "You must think I'm really stupid," she said.

"No, not really stupid. Elphaba -"

"Stop calling me that," she barked.

"It's your name!"

"It's not. I'm the Wicked Witch of the West!"

"That's a costume, Elphie. That isn't you."

"Who's to say?" she asked, pacing a little. "Who's to say it isn't me? I'm the Wicked Witch of the West," she repeated, though for whose benefit it couldn't be said.

"No you aren't, or you wouldn't be so unhappy."

She froze. "Get out of here," she commanded, her voice low.

"But I've just found you. I have so much to-"

"I don't want to be found."

"Fae -"

"Are you impaired in some way? I said, GET OUT OF HERE!"

She was about to snap, and hoped he couldn't tell. Didn't he know how dangerous it was to be near her? Why couldn't he just go, already, and leave her to the rest of her miserable wind-swept life in peace and solitary?

"I'm not going," he said, stubbornly. "I refuse to believe you've forgotten me, and I've searched so long and hard for you, I can't just go when at last I've found you."

"You haven't found me," she smirked. "You're nowhere near capable of bringing me in, you're alone and unarmed. You've stumbled upon me, and I shall disappear and never see you again. That doesn't make me found, it makes me temporarily within your line of sight."

"Dammit, Elphaba," he bellowed, the force of which caused her to take a surprised step backward. "I... Shit, you should go," he said, eyes darting around the streets. "But I can't... Come back again, if you can. Send word, something. Anything." She raised an eyebrow at him. "I've missed you," he confessed, unable to help himself. He could only bear a moment in time of the truth being out there and her not returning the sentiment, and so he continued. "Glinda, too. We both miss you."

"I miss no one." _Please Fiyero, _she thought._ Hate me. It will be easier if you simply hate me._

"You're a liar," he said, his shoulders slumped. "If you want me, you know where to find me."

And then he was gone.

_Don'tyousee?Shedoesn'twanttobefound...We have to face it._

Had it worked? Oh, how foolish of her to have tried for something she achingly did not want! Almost the instant he had disappeared, she had regretted trying to protect both him and herself with coldness and lies, but had been too proud to chase after him. She'd been awful to him, and now, what...? He was pointing a rifle at her.

"Silence, witch," he barked, dousing the last of her hopes that she hadn't poisoned him against her that night that he'd literally bumped into her in the South streets.

There was a ringing in her ears that grew until she saw stars bursting in front of her eyes. But then, oh then, the relief... "Elphaba, I'll find Dillamond later, now get out of here."

"Oh, Fiyero," she thought. "You're going to destroy me..."


End file.
